The Prodige
by emilyserienjunky
Summary: He never would've expected to come across the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, whose fluent movements would still hunt his dreams even months after their short encounter. Neither had he ever thought he could fall in love with somebody whose name he didn't even know... However most things in life don't work out the way we expect them to, do they? AU prodigy!balletdancer!Kurt
1. Prologue: A single ray of hope

**Extended Summary:**

When Blaine Anderson was visiting the campus of Juilliard in the summer before freshman year. He was trying to memorize the locations of his future classes and seek out his future dorm... He never would've expected to come across the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, whose fluent movements would still hunt his dreams even months after their short encounter. Neither had he ever thought he could fall in love with somebody whose name he didn't even know...

However most things in life don't work out the way we expect them to, do they?

**AU where Kurt and Blaine never met before they both attend Juilliard: Blaine is a freshmen studying Music and Piano and Kurt is the protégé of the world-famous ballet teacher. While Blaine is just an unknown newbie, he soon learns that Kurt isn't. Everybody knows Kurt and everybody worships him because Kurt has a gift. Because when Kurt dances the world seems to stops and nothing else is of importance anymore but Kurt. His movements hypnotize you till HE is the only thing that matters anymore. That is why Kurt has special single classes and every student and teacher at Juilliard adores him. However Kurt is also very lonely because he can never know if people care about him or if it's just his dance that as them captured. Will it be different with Blaine, or will he just break Kurt's already stricken heart beyond repair?**

_This story can also be found on Scarves&Coffee under the same name (however, there the single chapter parts have not been joint together)._

* * *

><p><span><strong>A single ray of hope<strong>

Kurt was 17 years old when he got accepted into Juilliard.

It was always his dream to one day become a ballet luminary. To dance in the sold out ballet houses all around the world. Or to teach his passion to others so they would be able to achieve their dreams, just like his mother did.

However he never would have thought that when his dream finally came true, when he finally got the recognition he deserved – that it would mean this little to him...

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?

From the day he was born Kurt's parents Burt and Elizabeth Hummel knew that he was special. To what extension however they would only learn with time.

Kurt was quite the unusual little boy: He never liked to play with toy cars or action figures like all the others. No, Kurt only ever wanted to dance. And not just any dance – he wanted to take up ballet just like his mother had in her youth.

After a few fruitless attempts to get the kid to change his mind, Burt finally gave in and got Kurt for his third birthday (as he wished) a pair of rose colored ballet shoes. From then on he started to train with his mother every day.

Elizabeth soon realized that her little boy had an extraordinary gift. It wasn't that his technique was all that great, after all he had only been learning for a few months. But when dancing Kurt, he put his heart and soul into his every movement. Even without music his motions could make you start to cry or laugh without you even noticing it.

However not everybody thought that it was good to be different. Kurt had always had a hard time in school. It wasn't just his supposedly strange hobby or his love for school work but also his pale skin and fragile frame that made him the target of bullies since day one.

But Kurt never let it get to him. As long as after school he could come home and start pouring his, otherwise repressed, emotions into his dance he was content. And so his parents didn't see the need to interfere because it didn't seem like that big a deal.

Everything seemed to be going well until one fateful afternoon when the Hummel's got a phone call telling them that their barely 7-year-old had fallen down several flights of stairs. Kurt was lucky and got away with only a broken arm and leg and a pretty bad concussion.

But the injuries weren't what made this experience so decisive for Kurt's later life. It was the fact that nobody except for his parents seemed to believe him when he told them that he didn't just fall down all those stairs. No, he was pushed down by one of the older kids, who had been shoving him repeatedly even before that fatal afternoon. And even though there had always been many onlookers no one was willing to back up Kurt's side of the story.

So after 2 weeks of constant battle (which mostly consisted of very load conversation) first with the headmaster of the elementary school, later with the school board, Kurt's parents decided it would be better for him to be homeschooled by his mother than to go back to such an toxic environment.

What followed where the most agonizing months of Kurt's previous life because even though he and his mother were constantly home together, he wasn't allowed to dance until all his injuries had healed (which seemed to take forever). And even after that he had to take it very slow and start with light physical therapy to get all his muscle function back.

It took all of four months till Kurt's doctors finally gave him the ok to start dancing again. Of course such a long time without training took its toll on his technique and he practically had to start from scratch to get his muscles to work properly again.

But with all the extra time he had now that his mother taught him school work too, he was quickly able to enforce a new schedule allowing him to practice 3 and a half hours daily. So after several months during which he spend every free minute he got to practice he was able to regain all of his "lost" abilities before his eighth birthday.

Everything was great from then on, until his mother got into a car crash on her way home from the grocery store and was killed. After that nothing was the same anymore. The house seemed colder without her warming presence and his dad didn't laugh anymore. He only just barely managed to let a small smile grace his lips for Kurt's sake, but the boy could easily tell that it was forced.

For the first week after her death all Kurt could do was cry. He just didn't find a reason to do anything else until his tears ran out. Suddenly he felt utterly alone in the big house that was once so full of life and happiness.

It took him all of 3 weeks and several talks with his father to put on his worn-out ballet shoes again and make his way down to the basement which contained a large mirrored practice room with laminate flooring and a long holding bar across the wall on left side of the stairs.

At first he didn't know what to do with himself. His mother had always told him what to dance or how to move but she was gone now - she wasn't there to tell him anymore, couldn't ever teach him all her secrets. For the millionth time in the past month tears started to shimmer in Kurt's glasz orbs but unwilling to let them fall again he stubbornly closed his eyes.

And that's when first he felt it...

It was as if a totally new aura was surrounding him. The voice of his mother from their first dance lesson sounded strongly in his ears:

_"Put your arms up like this... Shoulders square – good. And now slowly lift your weight to it put on your toes. That's it - you got it, sweetie!"_

He didn't need any music because he wasn't just following the emotions given to him by others. No, he was simply expressing his own in the only way he knew how...

After that most things got easier with time. Of course he was still mourning his mother but he wasn't desperately sad anymore. He had found his outlet, his way to feel close to her again. And that made it easier for Kurt to cope with his loss.

His father hired a private tutor for him. To afraid that he would lose his son too if he send him back to school where he just wasn't safe.

7 years later found a now 15 year old Kurt Hummel more or less in the same situation. His tutor stayed until he turned 11. He then managed to convince his father that he could easily do the work alone and that's what he did from then on. He was an exceptionally bright kid never one got under an A- and still managed to train 6 hours per day in the basement. His technique had improved greatly and Kurt now even danced most of the advanced pieces flawlessly.

Kurt loved to learn something new whether it was school, ballet, cooking or even just fashion related. He was a very passionate person and easily obsessed with his hobbies. Until his dad would finally put his foot down and give him the choice of either coming to dinner or not being able to dance for two days (well there obviously wasn't much of a choice there).

At age 16 he came out to his father (only a formality really) and told him he wanted to attend The Juilliard School in New York to become a famous ballet dancer. Burt Hummel had always known that his son was too big for small-town Ohio and that he would have to let him go eventually. However this didn't make the day he first heard of Kurt's future plans any easier to endure (his baby boy was growing up after all). But nevertheless Burt promised him to always love and support him - no matter what.

And that's what he intended to do – life seemed to have other ideas...

* * *

><p>By the time Kurt turned seventeen he seemed to have everything planned out. He managed to finish school with a perfect GPA of 4.0 and got his high school diploma. He and his dad had talked for a long time until Burt Hummel finally agreed to sign the permission slip allowing Kurt to apply to Juilliard one year early.<p>

Since it was quite unusual to send in an application at such a young age and even rarer with grades like Kurt's, they assumed that he had a pretty good chance of getting in.

Even though Burt knew next to nothing about the ballet he was still convinced that once they saw his son dance they would welcome him with open arms. And much to Kurt's embarrassment he told everybody that his little boy would be attending Juilliard in the fall (despite many protests from Kurt).

Needless to say that every resident of the Hummel house was absolutely thrilled when the letter from the school arrived telling them that Kurt was one of the finalists. He was requested to come to New York and perform in front of the admissions committee at the end of July.

To Kurt it felt like he was finally reaching his destiny - everything seemed to fall into place. And he couldn't remember ever being this happy since the day his mom had passed away.

But as they say: _Nothing good can last forever._

Kurt was in the middle of his daily 30 minute stretch before his practice when he got a call from the hospital telling him his father had been brought in an hour ago. He barely managed to put on some normal shoes before he was already heading out the front door. He might have sped a little on the way to the hospital and run over a few red lights (sue him his only living relative had been rushed to the ER).

When he arrived at Lima Memorial he frantically sought out the front desk and practically screamed his Burt's name at the nurse sitting there. After several minutes spent anxiously waiting for his father's file being located and the doctor being paged. The man finally appeared in the hall and took him to the room. He informed Kurt that his father had suffered from a severe heart attack while working at the shop, and due to the lack of oxygen to his brain had fallen into a coma.

They didn't think he would make it.

Even after hearing all the hard facts about his father's condition Kurt refused to believe that Burt would leave him so utterly alone in the world. So he ignored the doctors and nurses pleading for him to let his father go, and instead spent every waking hour of the next three weeks on his dad's bedside. He talked to him, read to him, pleaded with him to wake up and told him how much he loved him and that he couldn't lose him too, over and over.

But there was no use.

23 days after Burt had been rushed to the hospital he died from a second heart attack. When Kurt got to his room (like every day before this) at the beginning of visiting hours Burt's bed was empty and the room had already been cleared. The nurses (who all knew him be now and had sent him several pitying looks in the past) sat him down in one of the waiting room chairs until the doctor appeared. Kurt didn't listen to him talking about how his dad's heart just couldn't handle it anymore and had stopped beating at about 4:15 this morning. He already knew that his father was gone and that he was now truly alone in the world. Why should the details of it happening make him feel better?

The funeral was small but tasteful (it had to be since Kurt was the one organizing it). For once Kurt didn't feel like dressing up (but he did it nevertheless of course). The whole thing was a very quiet affair: There was no preacher since neither he nor his father were even remotely religious. And since he had been his father's only living family, for Kurt it was all just a blur of condolences and speeches from Burt's friends about what great man he had been (Kurt couldn't think of anything to say, so he just didn't and watched everything quietly). After 40 minutes they lowered the coffin into the ground. And that was it. Everything was over, just like that.

Kurt stayed at the cemetery for a long time after the other guests had left and stared at the headstone and the engravings on it:

_"Elizabeth Hummel, loving mother and wife. "_

(And the newer, slightly darker one below) _"Burt Hummel, devoted father and husband. Rest in peace. "_.

He felt like crying but didn't think he could manage to (considering how much time he had spent crying in the last days, he honestly doubted that he had any tears left). It had only been 6 days, but to Kurt it had felt like 6 years in the least. At sunset, 5 hours after everybody else had gone Kurt finally left the cemetery behind to drive back to the now empty house that once was his home.

* * *

><p>Burt's three-week-long hospital stay and the funeral left Kurt with an amount of bills that even the sale of his father's garage and his childhood home could just barely pay off.<p>

Fortunately since his father had already signed the emancipation papers when he applied to college, at least now child services couldn't interfere with his plans. After some calculating Kurt found he just had enough money for a one-way ticket to New York and a week in a crappy motel left.

Of course Juilliard being not just some school but the best in the whole country, tuition there is sort of steep (meaning every semester costs a student about 30.000$). Needless to say there was no way for Kurt to get that kind of money (nobody would hire a 17-year-old without experience and the bank refused to give him a student loan without any securities for something as „uncertain" as ballet).

His only chance was the „Special Honors Scholarship", which was Juilliard's way of giving exceptional talent the necessary resources to make it big. Every semester one candidate was chosen by every faculty for whom the entire costs of their education at the school would be covered. Considering the amount of applicants every semester the chance of being elected were about one in a million.

But it was Kurt's only option left so he sat all his hopes on being _that one_. He knew he had the talent in him, he just had to make them see it, too.

If he failed he would need to find a job soon (unless he wanted to be homeless, which he didn't) and find a new dream. But he wouldn't think of failure now because he had onechance to show them all of himself, _one chance _to make it right. And he intended on taking it.

So on the 25th of July Kurt Hummel found himself getting off a plane for the first time of his life and stepping into the city of his dreams to get to the audition of his lifetime.

* * *

><p>The room was already full of people when Kurt arrived – a consequence of having to take the subway to get to the school. It was only five hours ago that Kurt's plane arrived at JFK and in order to not miss his big audition Kurt made his way directly from the airport, with his suitcase still in hand.<p>

A wise call because as it turned out using the subway on you first day in in the city (and without any further help or guidelines) is more complicated than thought: After 30 minutes spend searching for the right connection and finally managing to buy his ticket – Kurt had to learn that NYC-Subways often delay. So after having pushed his way through several not so friendly strangers on the crowded sidewalks of the city, Kurt finally arrived at Juilliard with only 45 minutes to spare before his audition – which was just barely enough time for changing and stretching his still pretty stiff muscles from the two-hour-flight – never mind going through his routine one last time before the performance of his lifetime.

After seeing him practically run into the preparation room – not even changed – most of the other contenders shook their heads at his antics, some even smirked (thinking they had already overthrown him just by showing up earlier or maybe that he was as careless with his dancing as he seemingly was with looking up the time of is appointments).

Kurt however didn't mind them at all. He could've been totally alone in the room and it wouldn't have changed anything because in only 30 short minutes he'll be standing in front of the six most famous ballet instructors of the world. He will have to show them that he has what it takes, that he's special. And convince them to let him continue doing what he loves and enable him later be able to do for other what they did for him.

But before that he would have to show them all of him without any of the barriers he constantly puts up, now, simply to protect himself from anymore hurt. Kurt has to make himself vulnerable again in order to reach his dream. And that's what scared him most of all: The knowledge that he would be laying his fate into the hands of complete strangers and they would decide if he was worth their efforts...

Needless to say he was practically dying inside and shivering with anticipation all at once: He had never danced in front of anybody who wasn't his mom or dad or an old camcorder he used for self-corrections, this would tell him if he was truly as good as he sees himself, as good as his mother always said.

And being Kurt Hummel he naturally wouldn't beg down from a challenge: He might have lost his parents and the only home known to him but he wouldn't give them his last resort, too. Not without a fight first...

Just as he had finished his warm-up and his thoughts began to become frantic (again), a woman appeared in the doorway calling out his name.

This was it. In just a few short moments his future will be set for him. After one short demonstration of his abilities it will be decided if he will get in with the needed scholarship or will have to look for a job to survive in the city while figuring how to proceed further. The next five minutes will decide if Kurt spend the last 14 years of his life chasing after what was only wishful thinking, and will be roughly woken up by reality hitting him.

He stepped into the room breathing harshly and feeling his heart practically beating right out of his chest, stopping in front of a vintage looking wooden desk where his idols (and possible executioners) sat. After the formal introduction and a few neutral instructions, soft music notes began to trickle from the surround-sound-system.

Kurt had debated a very long time over his audition piece because he wanted it to be perfect. Of course he loved to dance to the classic instrumentals, but that was just a too safe choice for him (too boring, frankly). After thinking trough all his options and seeing that he only had this ONE chance he decided he might as well go all in...

So he didn't use any of the traditional routines, but chose to create his very own from scratch. Even going as far as to not use the original song but recording himself singing in his high and clear voice, and putting even more of himself out there.

As the first notes of "Think of Me" filled the air Kurt found himself relax and just going where the music told him to...

His audience watched enraptured and seemingly unable to pull their eyes away from the dancing boy while he perfectly managed several consecutive Pirouettes on Dedans, followed by a Capriole in a Grande Allegro section and even going as far as doing a Split-Jump before finally finishing in a Grande Plié.

The room went silent after the music stopped and everybody seemed too scared to even let out a breath, which was unnerving to Kurt since it was not their future on the line here.

No matter what their decision would be he couldn't bring himself regret spending all his time training and perfecting his ballet steps. After all it was what connected him to his mother. And basically the only thing keeping him sane after losing not only her but also his father. No he would never regret even for a second...

How could he, really? He probably would be dead by now if he hadn't had an outlet for all the grief he was feeling. When he danced he finally felt free from all the pain and suffering because he put all the emotion he had, all of his soul into it – and that's also what it made so magical for everybody else.

Just as Kurt was about to decide that he must've been so terrible they didn't even have to courtesy to tell him and leave to room to at least save some of his dignity. His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of clapping in the silent room.

It startled him at first, he had never heard about anything like this happening before (like ever) but suddenly all six luminaries were out of their seats and applauding to him. He couldn't believe it: He'd done it – they liked him and he would get his chance to learn and perform. His hopes weren't crushed. He would live his dream and maybe _finally_ find some happiness along the way.

* * *

><p>They didn't understand it, but everybody felt drawn to Kurt after seeing him dance: His pure soul had made a connection with his audience and lifted them up with itself until he stopped and they dropped down again, but they could never get enough and always felt the need to see him again – that's what made Kurt such a good performer, but it's also what would make him so very lonely...<p> 


	2. Prehistory: Things worth fighting for

**Prehistory: Things worth fighting for**

Blaine was 19 years old when he got accepted into Juilliard.

Music has always been his passion: Ever since he was a little boy at the age of five asking his parents for piano lessons. They complied after some deliberation, in the end Blaine's mother convinced his dad it would benefit their son's education.

By the age of eleven Blaine had not only perfected the piano, but took up guitar, too – much to the dismay of his farther who still thought of it as a cheer waste of time. Mr. Anderson had certain expectations of his son and spending his time with something as ridiculous as music simply didn't fit in with his plans of Blaine studying law and working in the family business. However he kept his mouth shut as long as Blaine had a perfect grade score, he really couldn't care less about how he threw away his free time.

At age fourteen Blaine realized that he was different and it threatened to destroy his carefully held together life...

See: Blaine didn't dream about girls like all the other boys at school, no, Blaine's dreams consisted of broad shoulders and strong hands holding him protectively to a firm chest. Unfortunately for him, the other boys at school had noticed Blaine never looking after any of the girls and began put the pieces together.

That's when it all went downward for Blaine. One afternoon – he was just walking home from one of his music lessons – when he was suddenly cornered by several jocks from his school...

He doesn't really remember what happened:

They surrounded him. Told him they knew that he was a disgusting fag and that they wouldn't let him infect their school with all his _gayness_.After that followed several other nasty comments which Blaine couldn't really process over the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood in his ears. He couldn't do anything but stand there, dumbfounded.

_They found him out, just like that... Was he really that obvious? He didn't think so. But maybe he hadn't paid enough attention? Oh god, they were probably going to tell everybody! He couldn't handle that, couldn't handle his parents finding out – his dad finding out what a big disappointment his son really was._

His frantic train of thought, however, was interrupted by one of his confronter's fists colliding hard with his face – he had obviously taken Blaine's unresponsive behavior as a personal insult. Blaine tumbled backwards and clutched his cheek, horrified. It all want downhill from there on...

That first blow seemed to have set something of in the other jocks because Blaine suddenly found them all exchanging suggesting looks before they began to crowd in on him on the floor, several spurting evil smirks and an unsettling gleam in their eyes.

After that it's all just a blur of blows and kicks, shoves and insults thrown his way – until he finally fell a blissful darkness surround him.

When he woke up again it was to the sound of his mother crying at his bedside. Looking around himself Blaine quickly realized that he wasn't in his bedroom, but was lying in a hospital bed with several machines hooked to his body and Band-Aids covering most of it. After getting over the shock of seeing her son finally awake again, Mrs. Anderson promptly engulfed her son in a desperate hug (mindful of his broken body). Once everyone had calmed down again and the doctors had checked up on Blaine – now that he was awake – his mother fell into the tale of what had occurred while he was out:

Apparently, he had been unconscious for a total of five days. He had been found abandoned and beaten up on the sidewalk by a passer who phoned for an ambulance and the police. The hospital had called his parents and told them that their son's life was in danger and he would need immediate surgery due to a heavy head injury. While his mother was waiting anxiously for the surgery to end, his father was pressuring the police to find out who did this to his only son. The operation was successful but because of a temporary lack of oxygen to his brain, Blaine fell into a coma. The doctors told his parents all they could do now was wait and hope for the best. Mrs. Anderson never left her son's bedside if not absolutely necessary. Meanwhile, Mr. Anderson (who as a very successful lawyer held a certain amount power) got the police to look into his son's school for answers – and while they didn't come up with any information on the identity of Blaine's attackers, they could determine that apparently the boy had been the victim of a hate crime because of his homosexuality. Hearing this Blaine's father became very enraged and threatened the police to file a lawsuit against them for defamation. That was when Mrs. Anderson intervened and sent the police away, she tried to ease her husband into the possibility that their son might actually be gay (she had always had her suspicions – a mother just knows things like this). Mr. Anderson however didn't want to hear anything about it and left.

"That was two days ago and he hasn't come back since...", she finished frowning worriedly.

By the end of her explanation Blaine was in tears. He had been outed against own will and his father had left disgusted by the idea of having a gay son. But there was also his mother who accepted him and told him she had known all along but loved nevertheless.

It was too much to process all at once and he was still exhausted. So he sent his mother home (not without many protests from her side – promising her countless times that he was okay. And in the now quiet room simply went to sleep trying not to think too much about his the mess his life seemed to have become in only one short week...

When Blaine woke up the next morning it was still quite early – judging by the dim light creeping into the room from the window on the side. He didn't see him at first. Until a throat was cleared in one of the far corners of the room and a figure moved to the foot of his bed. The air suddenly felt charged.

There were no greetings exchanged, only one question filled choking silence of the room:

"Is it true? ", Mr. Anderson asked in an impassive voice. His eyes were trained on the form

of his son lying in the hospital bed, while he waited for him to answer.

Blaine met his father's stare determined not to seem weak.

"...y_es._ " It was supposed to come out strong, but just barely managed to speak at all.

"Then you are no longer my son", Mr. Anderson simply stated, seemingly unaffected by his son's confession. With that he turned around and left.

* * *

><p>Mr. Anderson was much too concerned about his reputation to file for divorce but he was also too narrow-minded to stay with his wife when she was supporting their son's unacceptable lifestyle choices – so he just packed up all his stuff and left. His mother didn't take it well – she loved her son and accepted him, but she had also loved her husband – and on more than one occasion in the following years Blaine would find her passed out in the living room with several empty bottles of wine in front of her.<p>

That's when music became his escape from everything – was it the anxiety attacks he still had whenever he left the house, the hurt of his father not accepting him or the dreadful feeling he always got from the fought of going back to school in the fall – he just let it all flow into what he was playing. But when even that wasn't enough anymore – the panic attacks came more and more frequent – his therapist suggested him trying out some self-defense classes. So Blaine took up boxing (which helped him immensely) and he began to _fight_ for himself.

And when school came around in the fall and he had start his freshman year all over again – having missed too much while recovering to catch up on – he had built up a new confidence and embraced his own sexuality.

After he made his statement for the police they were actually able to arrest the jocks that beat him up because apparently one of them had made a cellphone video of the whole incident.

So Blaine went back to school and didn't hide anymore bit showed them all who he was. He even joined the fight club and started a chapter of PFLAG – that's how he learned that he wasn't the only gay kid at school and other the next few years and even went out with a few boys, but it was never too serious. Blaine loved romance and he was just looking for the right person to share the important things with, so he never went further than a few coffee dates or the few times he actually went to the local gay bar to dance.

Because of his likable personality and his positive spirits he managed to get quite the big circle of friends, with whom he spend most of his free time (when he wasn't at music or boxing lessons) – his life was finally back on track...

When Blaine turned sixteen he had decided that he wanted to work in the music industry. He knew it would be hard but he was talented and that he could do it. He had always loved playing and after he started to write songs – to try and process what happened to him – he couldn't imagine doing anything else with his life. He had fought on and had seen that life really does get better and he hoped that his music would be able to show others who might be stuck in a familiar place like he was just last year.

The letter from Juilliard came as a shock to Blaine. Of course he knew that they would have to write him – he applied to the school after all – but he never thought they would actually consider him, let alone for a partial scholarship. He almost couldn't believe it when his music teacher suggested him trying out for the school in the first place – he always wanted to study in New York (it was is childhood dream), but he thought he would simply apply to the music program at NYU (it was pretty good after all) and not the _best music program at the best art school in the country._ And they actually thought he was that good – he couldn't believe it.

So May – three weeks left before finals – found Blaine in the auditorium of his high school sitting in front of a piano purring all his hopes, dreams, strength and emotion into his music. There was never a question as to what to play in this moment – he just knew. After showing the full extent of his abilities with some classical pieces, he moved on to his guitar and played one of his own songs, one he had written just after the attack and which had always helped him get out of bed again when there was seemingly nothing that would change. When nothing seemed to get better with his mother constantly passed out drunk or himself lonely and plagued by oh-so-frequent panic attacks. And the now that he finally had friends, who he knew loved him for who he is, held a whole new meaning to him...

After the last notes of "Not Alone" echoed out in the almost empty auditorium Blaine put his guitar down and held his breath. The Juilliard representative congratulated him for his technically flawless performance and complimented the passion with which he had sung and played, then she just left. All Blaine could do now was pack up his things, go home and wait...

It wasn't until barely a week before graduation (wherefore Blaine had been chosen as main speaker since he was this year's valedictorian) that he got another letter with the Juilliard stamp in the mail. He opened it with shaking fingers and his eyes began to water slightly when he read that he had not only been accepted for the next school year but he would also receive a partial scholarship which would help him to better cope with his planned double major.

That was one of the happiest days of Blaine's life. He had never given up and always kept on fighting for his own right for happiness in a world which was irrationally cruel to him just because he liked boys instead of girls. Even though he was slightly worried about leaving his mom, he knew she would be ok – she had finally admitted her problem and decided to look for help.

Blaine felt like he had finally won.

* * *

><p>What he didn't know yet was that in just a few months his life would become more complicated than ever before. And he would have to fight all over again, albeit for completely different reasons...<p> 


	3. Chapter 1: At first sight

**Chapter 1: At first sight**

Because of his special circumstances Kurt was allowed to stay at the dorms during the summer after his first year at Juilliard – the school was open for several summer courses, anyway. Freshmen Year had gone relatively well for him. Of course New York was quite the difference to sleepy small-town Lima (Ohio), but Kurt found himself instantly in love with the city since his first night there.

As expected the other students weren't happy about someone without proper training and without any experience getting the scholarship everybody sought-after and according they weren't very welcome to Kurt at first – mostly a mix of barely hidden jealousy and out-right skepticism towards his abilities. No need to say that every student was very excited to see Kurt perform for the first time in front of the whole department at the annual "Freshmen reaping" (a showcase to feature all new students) in September- they finally wanted to know what all the fuss was about and whether he could really live up to all the praise he had received from the teachers since his audition.

As the main attraction of the whole event Kurt's performance was the last – which he didn't really care about, too grateful to even be here, still. After his introduction there was a round of applause (mainly from the people who had already seen him perform) but he couldn't really concentrate on appreciating the encouragement, too concerned about all the people sitting in the room who would be watching him in just a few seconds. There were just _so many _of them...

Before he could start to panic, however, Kurt closed his eyes remembering some advice his mother had once given him when he had asked about her days as a professional performer:

_Just focus on the music and let the audience fall away until it doesn't matter if there are a thousand people watching you _(like Kurt right now)_ or only one person is._

And he listened for those first marvelous sounds of music. When he hears the notes the rest of the world starts to fade away as he starts to dance...

* * *

><p>After that first performance Kurt quickly became a legend in the whole performing arts world and everybody suddenly wanted to be in his good graces. At first Kurt was beyond than happy about this new development: he finally had friends, people who not only had the same interests as him but also the same dreams and were equally as ambitious as him – people who were just like him.<p>

Also he got to do something he had thought he never would: he dated.

It started with one of his semi-friends asking him out for coffee and talking with him for hours about his great fashion sense and so on (with Kurt carefully avoiding any talk about his family – he really didn't need to kill the mood by going _there_ on their first time out). Later found them half-naked and making out in one of their dorm rooms' right up until curfew.

For the following few months Kurt felt like was flowing on cloud eleven – that's how happy he was: He had several good friends who always liked to go out with him or see him perform as well as an amazing, attentive boyfriend who respected his boundaries (even though he had admittedly gone all the way already) and he always managed to get good grades and stayed at the top of class (although it took some effort, but he was never lazy and appreciated the challenge).

Having somebody there to instruct him turned out to be really great (and time sparing for that matter), especially during his single classes, which came along with his scholarship where he was easily able to follow the corrections of the teacher – some of which he probably never would've realized were even there, had he been by himself. He loved One-on-One sessions the most because he could focus entirely on his own dancing – without having the distraction of 19 other people dancing right next to him or (more often than not) seeming to be watching his every movement (when they should better watch their own if the horrible pose he saw from some of them was any indication).

Of course Kurt wasn't perfect either: he did lack some technique (although nothing major that the school couldn't help him correct with some time and training) – he simply needed some coaching.

Anyway, the fascinating thing for everybody to see was the _power_ he held, the way he was giving his whole soul to his dancing, throwing himself into it... that wasn't something you could learn it was primal, intuitive – _a gift_, simple.

* * *

><p>For the first time in what now seemed to be rather years then months Kurt was truly happy about the way his life was progressing... – he should have known from experience that it wouldn't last long.<p>

By the time holidays – the first ones he would spend by himself – came around he was feeling all alone all over again. None of his friends (nor his boyfriend) were able to spend time with him – everyone was away visiting their relatives during the short winter break they had from school. It was hard for him to say the least: He didn't have the energy to set any decorations up or cook some fancy dinner like it had been family tradition for what seemed like ever, so he simply stayed in bed and tried to will the days to pass quicker, only getting out to make his way to the dance studio for his daily training routines. He couldn't await for his mates to finally get back.

However when they did it wasn't like anything he had expected or anticipated: The short break he got away from them seemed to have opened his eyes and slowly but surely he began to notice all the little things – like the fact that they always seemed to be taking pictures of or with Kurt, which always ended up online with a big caption like "My good friend – Kurt Hummel", or when one of them would practically beg him to repeat a dance routine for the hundredth time just so they could see it again and more often than not secretly record it without consulting him about it...

It all began to unnerve Kurt but he kept quiet and just let them go on with it thinking _that's just what friends do_ (he really didn't know better, after all he had never had any friends before).

What made him snap was his so-called boyfriend Eric blatantly telling him one day that he would "make it worth his time" if Kurt would just lay in a good word with the faculty for him. That's what finally opened Kurt's eyes: He told him in not-so-kind words to get all the stuff he brought with him and GET THE FUCK OUT OF HIS ROOM – IMMEADIATELY! Judging by the shocked look on his (now ex-) partner's face, that definitely wasn't the reaction he was expecting from Kurt but at least he didn't seem to be stupid enough to take the warning lightly but got up from the bed – where they had previously been tangled up in one another – and in less than two minutes grabbed his shirt from the floor (where it had been discarded earlier that night) as well as all his other stuff and quickly fled the scene.

Only when he had left did Kurt let the tears – which had been threatening to fall – finally leave his eyes and stain the soft surface of the pillows resting underneath his head. Curling himself up into a ball Kurt cried for hours without end until he finally managed to slip into a fitful sleep, his dreams plagued with thoughts of self-loath:

_How could he have been so stupid and think anybody would ever want to be with him? He should've known better. He just wasn't a person people wanted to spend their time with (if it wasn't absolutely necessary). That's why he never had friends before. And it's also why he _will never have true friends_. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt though. He had believed it – the illusion they gave him, had willed himself to believe it wanting to give himself to it completely. He wanted his first time to be with Eric. If only for a chance not to feel so lonely anymore, that even in a crowded room he felt alone. People will always just want to use him or bring him down somehow. As long as he would keep letting people into his heart they would keep breaking it, and he didn't know how often he would be able to pick the pieces up again..._

After that fateful night Kurt realized that his supposed friends were just using him for their own purposes – so he just cut of all contact with them and vowed to focus solemnly on his school work, because even if he already exceeded the expectations of every teacher and student at Juilliard he would be damned if he let not only them but also himself down, now. When school stated up again in January there was a _new_ Kurt: He was still friendly and polite to everybody he encountered – maybe with the exception of his ex – but he didn't engage much with the other students anymore and just kept to himself more and more...

Of course, everybody noticed the sudden change in demeanor but nobody said anything – well at least not in front of him – it just began to add to the legend that already _was_ Kurt Hummel.

* * *

><p>About 3 weeks into the second semester Kurt got called into the dean's office and was introduced to Claude one of the world's most famous ballet luminaries, a former dancer – who had starred in at least 40 different productions in all the big cities – and now educator looking for an exceptionally talented student to study under him, to become his protégé and receive his unique coaching – including single lessons and many other vantages. And after having heard about Kurt's abilities he thought he might've found what he was looking for in him, so he invited Kurt to dance for him.<p>

Needless to say that Kurt was thrilled to be given this opportunity, which others could only dream of – even if Claude wouldn't choose him as his student he would at least be given some _much valued_ feedback which he would use to improve his skills.

He put much thought into what his show piece should be, but in the end decided _again_ to just use something that reflected his feelings – mostly because it was the only thing he became excited over during the preparation process_._

So spring break found Kurt – once again – in the dance studio, where all the new auditions are held, dancing his heart out in front of a stranger. A great part of his future depending on whether or not they would like his untraditional fashion – after all he had never heard of anyone else choosing to create a whole new routine to "I Dreamed a Dream" from _Les Misérables_ rather than just using one of the (in his opinion: _boring_) classics...

As it turned out he wouldn't have needed to worry because Claude wasn't much of a traditionalist ever and _very_ much liked Kurt's performance – going as far as to call it _fameux_ – and made him his new apprentice without thinking about it twice.

* * *

><p>With all the new workload the rest of the semester just seemed to fly by Kurt – Claude was a great mentor, but since he wasn't employed at Juilliard his training wasn't counted as school work but as Kurt's free time – not that he was complaining, no Kurt <em>loved<em> to spend every minute of every day with his passion, living his dream. Summer break almost came as a surprise to him. And it left Kurt with an awful lot of free time in his calendar that even his (how Claude always called them) _exagérée_ training sessions wouldn't be able to fill. So considering he was pretty much broke and only living of his small excess of scholarship money (which really didn't last long in view of his expensive taste in fashion and skincare products), he decided getting a summer job was a probably good idea.

Because of his rapidly emerging fame he naturally got a lot of offers to perform in many great ballet productions, however he declined them all: He didn't want to quit school because a part of his dream had always been to not only dance in the great sold-out houses all over the world but also to be able to teach, when his time in the spotlight would be over. He wanted to make others dreams come true and for that he would need a degree and dropping out of school thus wasn't an option. Besides he didn't feel quite ready for the big stage yet, he knew his technique was still far from perfect – natural talent or not.

Luckily for him people had not only noticed his dancing abilities but also his great sense of fashion and (with a little help from a few of his more influential fans) Kurt was actually able to land a summer internship at Vogue of all places. He would mainly be there to answer the phone and get coffee for everybody, but he was also allowed to attend the creative meetings and the pay wasn't bad either – besides it was _Vogue._

He couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten: They were flexible with working hours which allowed him to keep up with his daily training routine and they also only needed him to work 5 days of the week so that he still had plenty of free time to just relax and get his mind off of all the things in his not even remotely stress-free life.

Sometimes he just missed his parents really bad, it was then that he didn't even want to get out of bed in the mornings but knew he had to in order to keep himself in form – so he just stood up and got through the day on autopilot – the only thing displaying his foul mood being the slight hunch in his shoulders when he made his way to the dance studio where he was allowed to practice for 6 hours every day during the summer.

All trace of these thoughts left his mind as soon as the first notes of "Wake me up inside"(which he had decided on working on just for the fun of it) filled the room and he lost himself in the – by now oh so familiar – music.

* * *

><p>When the song ends Kurt slowly becomes aware of his surroundings again – namely of the big vintage train station clock located on the rear wall just left of the big floor-to-ceiling windows which graced to wall to Kurt's right. And when he did notice it his eyes became almost comically wide as he was taking in the time – it was already half-past four, he had been lost in the music and dancing for five hours straight and he would most definitely be late for work (again).<p>

Sighing he grabbed his back and turned towards the door to leave... that's when he first noticed that he wasn't alone in the room anymore. He startled. Standing there in the doorway of the studio intently starring at Kurt was a short boy with dark brown curly hair and pretty amber eyes, he was wearing jeans and a simple button-up shirt paired with a black cardigan and a matching bowtie – not really a style Kurt would go for but it suit him quite well.

The boy's amber eyes widened as they made contact his Kurt's own glasz ones and for a moment they stayed just like that.

It was Kurt who finally broke the silence – having gotten over the initial shock – as he non-committedly asked:

"Is there a reason why you are staring at me now? I mean, do you maybe need help or do you just like to try and scare people to death for your own amusement? "

The curly-haired boy seemed taken aback by that and his voice was shaking slightly when he answered:

"N-no... I … I am actually on my way to the music department? "

"Is that a question? " That made the strange boy laugh quietly.

"No, I will be studying Music and Composition here in the fall and I just wanted to look around for a bit, while I'm in the city. You know get familiar with the whereabouts of everything..."

"Well you're definitely wrong here – the music wing is on the exact other side of campus. Just head outside and be on the lookout for the purple signs, they will lead your way", Kurt explained to him while he made his way out of the practice room.

"Thank you. My names Blaine by the way. And not that I know a thing about ballet but I think you are really talented", the boy – _Blaine_ – complimented him as he made to follow him down the hall.

"Yes, I have been told before, thank you", Kurt responded but there wasn't any arrogance in his voice, it was simply filled with a lot of pride.

"Do you think I might be able to show my gratitude properly by taking you out for a coffee, now that you finished you training", Blaine asked after only a second of hesitation.

"Sorry I'm already late for work. I'm sure you'll enjoy being a student here, it really is a great school. I have to get going now. Bye, Blaine! "

And with that Kurt turned on his heel and practically bolted away from the building, leaving behind a slightly confused but very much enchanted man standing just outside the dance wing of Juilliard.

* * *

><p>They didn't know yet that this small encounter would change both of their lives...<p>

* * *

><p>The summer before freshmen year Blaine decided to use the extra-free time and leftover money he had – thanks to his partial scholarship – and (taking his mother's advice) went to travel for a little while. Since he had only ever been to New York once before, with his parents of the age of 10, he thought it would be the perfect opportunity to check out the city he would be spending (at least) the next four years of his life. So after 3 weeks of traveling along the East Coast, with only a backpack containing his clothes and toiletries, Blaine stepped – for the second time in his life – into the city of his dreams.<p>

It was still like he remembered it – he had been sure it would seem smaller now, but no such luck. 19-year-old Blaine Anderson stood in the middle of the crowded Times Square just as overwhelmed by _all that is New York City_ as 10-year-old Blaine had before him. One look up at the tall skyscrapers surrounding him and he knew that would love it here. He had a strange feeling in his gut, almost like he was supposed to be here. _Like he belonged._ A feeling – he realized – he had been oh-so-desperately longing for.

* * *

><p>After spending his first few days in the city – doing all the tacky tourist stuff and seeing a total of three different (on- and off-Broadway) musicals, Blaine had decided on spending the last day of his stay in New York City visiting the campus of his future college. He took off in the direction of Juilliard around noon – knowing that the school was offering summer courses for anybody interested, he knew that he showing up there wouldn't be a problem. After stopping for a light snack in a little coffee-shop near campus – which had quickly become Blaine favorite place in all of New York – he managed to arrive at the school without getting lost in the ever-present crowd of people on the sidewalks of the city.<p>

He decided to first have look at his future housing – having read online that all first time college students were required to live on campus in the Meredith Willson Residence Hall_. _It was a tall, dull looking white building, which you couldn't get inside of without either knowing someone who lived there or having a keycard to gain access – which Blaine of course didn't (yet), besides it was probably closed over summer anyway – so he didn't spend much time there (just taking a quick look around, trying not to look like some kind of crazy burglar who preyed on mostly empty college dorm rooms).

Moving to find the Music Department, Blaine found himself _slightly_ lost. He had easily found the Residence Hall – considering it was right on the edge of the campus where he arrived and had a big red sign at the front with the name on it, so no problem there. But now, trying to orientate himself without a map at hand, he had not even the _slightest_ idea where to go. Of course there were signposts, but instead of having the name of the location they lead to written on them – they were just painted in different colors (speak of confusing). His best guess would be that each color was probably representing one of the departments or housings – with the red one leading to the freshmen dorms.

So having no way of figuring out which color would lead him to his desired destination, he simply made a beeline to the closest building he saw – figuring he could ask the secretary at the front desk for a campus map or even just some directions. However, upon arriving in the entrance hall he couldn't find anybody anywhere and was becoming increasingly frustrated – that's when he heard it. It was very faint but also most definitely there – music, Evanescence to be precise. He knew that song really well, having listened to it countless times in the months following the attack, he had been easily able to relate to it at the time and it helped him to find new strength to keep going.

He followed the sound up the stairs to the second floor and down a long narrow hallway, until finally stopping in front what seemed to be a small dance studio (ahhh, he must be in the dance department then) – what he found there wasn't what he expected to see _at all_:

There, in the middle of the medium sized rectangular room was the most mesmerizing man Blaine had ever laid eyes on. His skin was pale, but not sickly – it looked almost like _porcelain_. The beauty was wearing a pair of black tights as well as a loose fitted brown long-sleeved top, which looked suspiciously like Alexander McQueen to Blaine. And even through his slack clothes you could still tall that even though he was skinny, he was still muscular and could've easily been mistaken for a Calvin Klein fashion model. He was tall (taller than Blaine, though that wasn't really that hard since Blaine was practically hobbit-sized), but not freakishly so and his stance was perfect – like most dancer's – while he was moving through the room.

Speaking of, his movements suddenly caught Blaine's full attention and he was taken aback anew by what he saw. He had been expecting to see the man perform one of the many modern dance styles like Street dance (a course he knew Juilliard offered during the summer) or even just to be doing some kind of freestyle combination for training purposes. But _never in a million years_ had he thought anybody would be able to dance ballet to an upbeat song like _this_ – and with that much grace and beauty at that. It was easily clear that this dancer knew what he was doing and Blaine found himself quickly enraptured by the whole scene in front of him.

This man wasn't just a performer – no, it was as if he was at home in what he was doing, living there. He seemed to have forgotten everything around him and just lost himself in the music and his rhythmic movements – throwing his all into it whether others realized or not. Blaine somehow knew that other people don't see it, but he did – this man was willingly making himself vulnerable (even if only briefly), practically setting himself up for hurt while he was dancing. Because right there and then he wasn't hiding behind anything, laying his soul out bare for anyone who might come along to step on and break it and just hoping exactly that wouldn't happen...

Blaine admired him for that, because he didn't think _he_ would ever be able to do that himself. For him music had always been his safety net – a barrier he could keep between himself and the world he had learned was only out to hurt him, something he could hide behind rather than use to express himself and connect with others, like this dancer was able to.

It made him sad to see this strange man and his art because it pointed out all Blaine's flaws to him once again. And he really didn't need any reminding that he wasn't perfect, that he just isn't good enough, that is and always will be just a great, great disappointment – his dad had told him as much after all. But he still couldn't keep his eyes away from the beauty of it, couldn't just turn around and walk away – it was as with someone had cast a spell upon and now his limbs wouldn't submit to him anymore. Still it didn't bother him he could've easily stood there and watched this beautiful dancer for the rest of his (anyhow miserable) life. So that's what he intended to do: He wasn't sure how long he stood there and watched the man in the small room move upon – it could've been hours or just mere minutes, he truly couldn't bring himself to care, anymore.

But all too soon it was all over, the music stopped and after a minute it seemed as if the dancer finally took in his surroundings again and realized where he was. Now that the dancing had stopped Blaine took in the whole appearance of the dancer – for the first time without any distractions: Like most dancers' his body was thin and lithe but it also featured several clearly pronounces muscles. He was wearing a tight pair of black yoga pants paired with a dark olive-green wide neck sweater and (of course) a pair of black ballet shoes. He still hadn't noticed Blaine standing in the while he hurriedly grabbed his iPod from the dock as well as his (designer) gym bag and turned to go...

Suddenly Blaine found himself face-to-face with the most mesmerizing glasz eyes he had ever seen – then again he wasn't even sure if he had ever seen glasz eyes before then - and he wondered whether they would really change their color depending on what mood the man was in. Once again he was totally captivated by the man in front of him, so that he almost didn't notice that he had been asked a question and he had to concentrate to remember what it had been:

"Is there a reason why you are staring at me now? "

_Oh god he probably thought Blaine was a weird stalker_ _something! _He thought for a moment, searching for an answer that wouldn't make him look like some creep – when he came up blank, he decided just to go with the truth:

"N-no... I … I am actually on my way to the music department? " Blaine silently cursed himself – it was supposed to sound confident, but it came out more like he was unsure.

"Is that a question? "

Obviously the beautiful man in front of him had noticed his insecurity as well and was now apparently mocking him – slightly panicking Blaine tried to cover his anxiety by laughing quietly over the joke.

However after noticing the look the dancer was now shooting his way he hurriedly explained:

"No, I will be studying Music and Composition here in the fall and I just wanted to look around for a bit, while I'm in the city. You know get familiar with the whereabouts of everything..."

Seemingly accepting his statement Blaine was hastily given the right directions:

"Follow the _purple_ signs! "

W_ell, at least now he knew that he was at the wrong site of campus and how to get to his original destination, but he couldn't just let this lovely male get away like that – he had to at least show his gratefulness in some way and maybe getting him to go out with him... But first things first: An Introduction was required!_

"Thank you. My names Blaine by the way. And not that I know a thing about ballet but I think you are really talented", Blaine told him with a supposedly flirty smile.

However the man just seemed to want to get away from him as fast as he could, simply replying:

"Yes, I have been told before, thank you. " There was obvious pride in his voice, but Blaine couldn't really concentrate on it because he was too busy following him practically bolt out of the room.

He hesitated a second thinking maybe this was a bad idea, before reconsidering and just going for it – _now or never_, he thought:

"Do you think I might be able to show my gratitude properly by taking you out for a coffee, now that you finished you training", he finally asked in a maybe too hopeful sounding voice.

He hadn't expected the response he got _at all:_

"Sorry I'm already late for work. I'm sure you'll enjoy being a student here, it really is a great school. I have to get going now. Bye, Blaine! ", the beauty told him before he turned on his heel very nearly ran out of the building.

The dancer had been polite and helped Blaine, but he had seemed somehow reserved while talking to him, almost calculating... He abandoned him without ever telling Blaine anything about himself, not even his name – but he still left behind a slightly smitten Blaine in a hallway of Juilliard.

And he would be not able to get the beautiful male with the angelic voice and enchanting dance out of his mind until they should inevitably meet again.


	4. Chapter 2: Meet again (sort of)

**Chapter 2: Meet again (sort of)**

Try as he might to stop it (which wasn't that hard to be totally honest) Blaine spent the rest of his summer haunted by dreams of the beautiful dancer he had met at Juilliard. Every time he closed his eyes he would be there – his glazs eyes staring into him before music began to play and be started to move to it with the more grace than anyone could imagine. And every time he (inevitably) woke up _alone_ in his bed at home again,he could feel a little stab in his heart. As if his subconscious was trying to tell him that this wasn't the way it's supposed to be – that he had somewhere else to be, _somewhere better_.

Blaine ignored the nagging feeling in his brain the best he could, instead focusing on the rest of his summer and spending time with his friends before his big move to New York. It worked for the most part and before he knew it, he was settled in his dorm and on his way to his first official class as a freshmen at Juilliard.

* * *

><p>The day passed in a blur of introductions and syllabi being handed out. It was all a bit overwhelming but Blaine didn't complain – he knew it would be hard pursuing a double-major, especially at a school as prestigious as this, so he came prepared. Years of private school education had taught him to always read a few chapters in advance to the actual lessons and to never postpone any important work until the last minute but rather taking care of it in advance to the actual due date and therefore earning some extra-credit. So he wasn't <em>too<em> overwhelmed by the whole thing (at least that's what he told himself).

However one _good_ side effect of all the new impressions he was being exposed to was that Blaine completely forgot about the mystery dancer and the possibility he might run into him again – now that they were going to the same school – until it actually did happened:

He had just grabbed some lunch in the cafeteria and settled at a desk with some of the other freshmen, he was easily becoming acquainted to, when _he_ walked in...

* * *

><p>The first day of Kurt's sophomore year didn't start out extraordinarily, except maybe for the fact that he was probably the only not-freshmen present in the school before noon. The morning was fully reserved for all the freshmen introductions meaning that all other student's lessons didn't start until after lunch hour – they took this last opportunity before the start of another school year to get some more sleep.<p>

All except for Kurt who was up-and-about at seven o'clock sharp (as usual) and took the opportunity to quickly make his way to Central Park for one of his early morning runs which were normally only intended for the weekends. Running gave him the opportunity to clear his head and take a little distance from his busily scheduled life – not that he didn't love it, but it _did_ become a little overwhelming at times – however while jogging through the park when it was only him and the rhythmic beat of his feet, to the music he was currently listening to, _he felt free_.

But much as he might have wanted to, he couldn't run forever, couldn't just ignore all his responsibilities and let down all the people who were counting on him. So after an hour and a half, he made his way back to Juilliard – stopping for coffee on the way – to go to his usual training room (which he knew would be empty by now) and run through some of the exercises which Claude had told him to pursue over the summer.

After two hours of routine training Kurt decided to take a quick break to get some lunch in the cafeteria. He grabbed his bag and tried to – _unobtrusively_ – make his way to the cafeteria. Thankfully, the hallways were nearly empty (the freshmen were probably all having lunch and all the older students wouldn't get here 'til afternoon) so he didn't run into too many people, except for the one or 'nother faculty member who just smiled at him and otherwise let him continue in his path.

However he hadn't anticipated the reaction he would get when entering the cafeteria...

_They are FRESHMEN for God's sake! They got here about five minutes ago. How is it even POSSIBLE that they all ALREADY know who Kurt is!? Was it written across his forehead or something?_

* * *

><p>The reaction was immediate:<p>

Blaine was currently eating his club sandwich and listening to Isabelle – a music major, who was recounting the one time she participated in a concert at the White House – when she suddenly stopped talking. In fact all the other conversations seemed to have stopped, too, and the entire cafeteria became _eerily_ quiet. Confused as to what was going on, Blaine lifted his gaze up from his food and was about to ask what happened and realized quickly that everybody was intently staring at the main entrance door.

He followed their sights and saw that the beautiful dancer was standing there, however looking a little wide-eyed with everybody staring at him. Although he couldn't quite believe his luck to have rediscovered the subject of his dreams (without even really meaning to). The whole scene did seem quite odd to him.

_What is all this about, anyway? Did he do something embarrassing or what?_

After a few seconds of hesitation the male seemed to have recovered from his initial shock: He strengthened the back of his shoulders and quickly adjusted his posture, before he began making his way with strong and sure strides to the middle of the room, where the food counters were located. Giving Blaine the opportunity to admire his dress-ensemble: He was wearing a pair of loose-fitting dark grey sweatpants combined with a navy hoodie, which was hugging his chest in just the right way and managed to underline his pale skin tone without making him look sick. His hair coiffed to perfection (just like the last time when Blaine had seen him).

Just as he was about to lose himself in starring at this beautiful creature, he realized at once that he was staring – _again_ – and that the cafeteria wasn't so quiet anymore, in fact it seemed that now everybody was having their own intense discussion about what seemed to be going on. Every now and then somebody would pause while speaking and chance a glance over at the dancer who was currently occupied with making himself a salad at the provided bar and didn't seem to pay any mind to all the commotion he had caused. Blaine couldn't help but wonder – for what _already_ felt like the millionth time: _Who is this guy?_

The sudden lack of conversation around him and all the disbelieving stares he was now receiving made Blaine realize that he had actually voiced that last thought.

Isabelle was the first to break the awkwardness.

"Wait a minute! You want to tell me you honestly don't know who that is?! ", she almost shouted in Blaine's direction.

Blaine gulped at her sudden fierceness and then went to answer her question:

"... yes? I mean I saw him here when I toured the campus during summer and he gave me some directions, but other than that – no. "

Again his answer was met by silence, until:

"OH MY GOD! Are you telling us that you actually talked to him?! "

"Well, briefly yes but-" Blaine's answer was cut short when suddenly he was bombarded with questions from all sides:

"What did you talk about? "

"Was he nice? "

"Is he really as stunning up close as everybody says? "

Blaine quickly gave up on trying to get a word in as everybody was now talking at the same time and asking him questions about the mystery guy he had only met once and who had barely talked to him.

Only his dorm roommate Josh, who could apparently see the distress written across his face, took pity on him by silencing them:

"Hey! Guys come on... STOP! " That seemed to do the trick, as now everybody was once again shocked into silence.

The first to cover from this was Kate – a confident little blonde Blaine had met during his Freshmen First Class – and she didn't miss a beat before quickly lashing out at Josh for interrupting them.

"What?! ", came her rather unpleasant shriek.

"What? Honestly? Look at _poor Blaine_ over there! You totally overwhelmed him with all your questions. He doesn't even seem to know what we're talking about, exactly", Josh replied coolly, followed by a (not-so-subtle) eye-motion towards Blaine at the end, to get them to look at him – like _really_ look. They followed Josh's indication and stared at Blaine for a few seconds. After they had obviously seen what he was referring to, understanding seemed to dawn in their expressions.

Isabelle was the first to try and speak to Blaine again – her tone of voice now noticeably softer than before:

"OK, just so that we are all at the same page here – you met the guy over there before? " While saying this she pointed – unnecessarily – towards the salad bar where _he_ was still occupied with putting together his lunch.

All Blaine did in return was nod, so she continued:

"But you don't know who he is? "

Another nod, followed by a short explanation after which he – _again_ – received a bunch of disbelieving stares.

"He just gave me some directions and then he rushed out the door... - didn't even tell me his name", he mumbled that last part rather to himself but they still heard it.

"His name is Kurt Hummel", Kate decided to throw in, although the tone with which she said it made Blaine draw his eyebrows together in thought.

_Kurt Hummel –_ he said the name out loud in his mind – it was beautiful and so fitting. It wasn't really a common name but then again he didn't seem like a common person either. He was exceptionally beautiful and talented (as far as Blaine's judgment went). And now Blaine finally had a name for this extraordinary creature that had been in his dreams since the day they met. _But why did it feel like that name should ring a bell in Blaine's brain? Had he heard it before? Was it famous or something? Why did it sound so familiar?_

Again his brain-to-mouth-filter didn't seem to be working today, as his (originally meant to be silent) question was quickly answered by another high shriek coming from Kate (I_f she would continue to be this loud he would have to invest in some earplugs or risk going deaf, _he thought sarcastically. Thankfully he didn't voice _that _or – for all he knew – she might have tried to attack him.)

"OF COURSE IT SOUNDS FAMILIAR! _Nobody_ can get into Juilliard without having heard the name Kurt Hummel before! "

"Are you going to tell me why I should know him or not?! ", Blaine asked with a slight hint a sarcasm lacing into his voice. Kate let out a frustrated huff before continuing.

"Kurt Hummel is only the single most talented student to ever walk the halls of Juilliard. He is one in a million – the perfect combination of body, talent, charisma and – most important of them all – _tenacity_. That's why he got the ONEfull scholarship that this school offers. He taught himself up until last year when he started here. He _redefined _the ballet: His routines are all self-made and usually never what you would expect. He has private lessons with a French ballet luminary, who is only at this school because of him. But he never misses any of the mandatory classes either. He's a prodigy – his GPA is perfect and he is _by far _the most promising student Juilliard has ever seen – HE _IS_ JUILLIARD. You can't tell me you've never heard of him! "

Of course Blaine had heard of him before, well he had _read_ about him. Every person involved with the arts knew the story of the orphaned ballet dancer who – besides never having been trained – managed to get into the most prestigious dance school in the country. The teachers said that he had more talent in his feet than any other student at Juilliard in their entire bodies. And his fashion sense is _already_ legendary – Blaine certainly couldn't argue with that, even if he only saw him twice, _briefly._ Besides that Kurt was also said to be a _true inspiration_ for today's youth because – even though companies basically fight over him – he's turned down every offer, saying he wants to get his degree first.

Blaine _finally_ had a name for the beautiful man – the dancer he met during summer and found himself rapidly falling in love with ever since – along with more information than he could have ever hoped for without actually talking to him. But now he also knew for certain that the object of his desire was _completely _out of his reach.

The only remaining question now was: _Would Blaine let that stop him or not?_


End file.
